Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
The rest of the floors and apartments remained empty.
Val, my oldest sister, had moved out only eight months ago to start living with her boyfriend in the historic district.
Hades and Hannibal came to visit a lot, but they actually owned a house about two hours east of Dallas, in Longview. As did Slone and Tony—Caristonia.
Though I missed having my sisters and Keene around constantly—we’d spent a few years of our lives cooped up with each other while we tried to navigate life without my father around. Needless to say, close contact with them was inevitable, and I surprised myself in even admitting that I enjoyed having them all around.
“Jesus Christ.” Nash ran his hands through his hair. “I swear to God. It’s like the light’s on, but nobody’s home.”
I flipped him off and stood up, brushing off my ass as I did. I felt pieces of dirt and mulch fall into my shoe but ignored it.
“I think maybe you just need to learn to take a hint,” I suggested.
He glared at me as he fell into step beside me.
His slight limp didn’t go unnoticed, either.
But I’d be damned if I acted like I cared and asked him why he was limping.
Instead, I’d do what any normal person did. Stalk him on the internet.
See, along with being a famous NASCAR driver, he was also on the top fifty bachelors in the world, according to Fray magazine.
“I’m not going to sit out here and act like it isn’t the dumbest thing in the world to fall asleep in a parking lot where anyone could get you,” he snapped.
I rolled my eyes so hard I made myself dizzy.
“Are we playing a game of delusions?” I wondered as I got to the front door. “Did you forget to hear? The entire area is secure. There are cameras everywhere. We even have a full-time security guard. And you have to have this super-secret pass to get in and out of the parking garage.”
He sighed. “There are always ways.”
I wanted to punch him in the throat.
“There are ways when you don’t live somewhere that’s protected by a billionaire, sure,” I admitted as I waved my wrist at the door.
The green light flashed, and I beamed.
My invention had worked.
When we’d first moved in, Winston had created key cards for everyone to access the building.
But after my fourth time replacing the keycard—and yes, Winston had to replace the codes as well—I’d decided to cut the key code off of the card and attach it to a bracelet at my wrist.
So far, it’d worked perfectly.
The door slammed behind me, and heavy footfalls followed me all the way to the elevator.
“I thought you didn’t like to take the elevator?” I asked as he walked into the small compartment with me.
The man didn’t say anything, but I knew it had something to do with his leg.
Not that he was going to share that information with me.
“I take it when I want to,” he grumbled, his eyes darting away.
I smirked at calling him out, then watched as the floor indicator lights moved until I reached my floor.
Nash was one above me.
Directly above me.
So I could hear his every move, all day every day, when he was home.
I hated it. But only because it reminded me to think about him, and sometimes that was a slippery slope.
To be honest, if life were different, I might try to pursue a relationship with Nash. But as it was, I had enough to deal with without trying to add making him like me to the table.
The doors opened, but before I could step all the way out, he caught me by the hand and pulled me backward.
I turned and looked at him, eyes narrowed, and said, “What?”
He didn’t waste time and didn’t let me go.
“Don’t do that anymore,” he ordered. “You may think you’re safe, but nobody is. Not even you behind a locked gate. Locks only keep honest people out. Not people looking for trouble.”
When he put it like that…
He pushed me backward and I had to fall back three steps before catching my balance.
Before I could say anything like ‘you’re such an asshole’ the doors to the elevator closed.
“Freakin’ jerk!” I called out.
I had no doubt that he’d heard me.
Cursing under my breath about what a rude man Nash Christopherson was, I made my way to the door and groaned at the sight of the packages out front.
Mail day.
I’d forgotten all about it, and now I would have to go to the damn post office to take my package in.
Grumbling under my breath, I gathered my packages up, then had to juggle them—which, I might add, I was pretty good at—as I opened the front door that was luckily unlocked.
The moment the door opened, I dropped all the packages to the ground, then slammed the door closed.